


Words, Wide Night

by criminalwriting



Series: Inspired by Poetry [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/F, poetry insp, weird style yet again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 11:33:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11274570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/criminalwriting/pseuds/criminalwriting
Summary: Reader thinks of how impossible being in love with Spencer is.





	Words, Wide Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of a poem of the same name by Carol Ann Duffy!

It hadn’t taken you long to decide that you were in love with Spencer Reid. It would take only the slightest of looks. The longest of seconds. The barest of conversations to get you chasing his lips, chasing his words and ideas. Eager to hear more of a subject you had no care for. 

And lying in the hotel bed, with heavy cotton sheets pressed to your chest. Either In fear or hope, you hold your breath. The walls beside you so thin that you’re sure he can hear your thoughts. And you know it’s ridiculous to think it. If he were there beside you, listening to your thoughts he’d tell you that telepathy is only as likely as winning the powerball jackpot or something as impossibly similar. 

But lying so far from him, with his soft heart only feet away, you ache in your yearning for him, ache in the heart, in the head, between the legs. And as you speak only in shallow breaths it crosses your mind how he thinks of you. 

If he chases your conversations the way you chase his. If he thinks of your voice and dreams of everything you could say to him. Whether the coffee you bring him gives him thoughts of a life you two could live. . 

Or if he too lay awake thinking of how close you’d been. How he’d been inches away from your lips then a reason sprung between the both of you. Excuses dangling between the regret of the actions you both refused to take. Out of pride or fear. You could never decide on which. 

It had been only days ago since the latest of incidents. Where you’d found yourself between Spencer Reid and a counter. The heat of the coffee pot warm against your back as he;d reached for it. Not around or near you. But over you. Finding yourself pushed against a counter with your cheeks flushed red and your heart beating louder than any words could.It was an easy way to fall back in love with the ways of Spencer Reid. 

Staring at the curve of his lips, losing yourself in the depth of his eyes, even mournlessly losing an idea or two in the way he forgets himself as his eyes linger on yours, the slender hands that you’d once joked owned to a crypt keeper or a fabled pianist now loose around the pot of coffee as you both refused to look away. A single breath hanging between you. 

If you’d have asked him, it was you who leaned forward in that moment. But to you it was him. It was him who put the pot of coffee back to the counter, it was him whose hands had ghosted the edges of your torso, almost daring, even begging you to ask him to pull you closer as he edged even closer to your lips. 

But it had taken a second, a flicker of realisation between the two of you for the moment to lose itself. The confidence he’d had now gone as he fumbles for an excuse, your cheeks flushing as you’d stepped away. Clearing your throat and disappearing into the office. 

Even now the moment seems a dream. Perhaps it was. But the moment lasted forever. Repeating itself again and again as you both pretended it didn’t exist. 

And with the cotton sheets pressing with all the weight of your world, you consider taking the journey to his room. Crossing the night to find his side, practically already struggling with finding the words to express what you needed to say.

But the short steps to his room, seems almost the longest journey. So for now you’ll stay thinking of his lips, and voice. But the thoughts go interrupted, by a light knock on your door.


End file.
